Sock Drawer Secrets
by Inkyfingers2
Summary: After Puck's stint in juvie, his mother, Sarah Puckerman, instilled some new house rules, including room checks, where she stumbles upon something very curious in his sock drawer…


**Title: **Sock Drawer Secrets**  
>Author<strong>: AliasGrace07**  
>Summary<strong>: After Puck's stint in Juvie, his mother, Sarah Puckerman instilled some new house rules, including room checks, where she stumbles upon something very curious in his sock drawer…**  
>Pairing<strong>: Potential P/R**  
>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee or its characters, but if there was a wrestling match for them, I'm pretty sure I could take Ryan Murphy down.

**AN**: Little drabble set shortly before the 'The Sue Sylvester Shuffle.' _italics_=thoughts

Sarah Puckerman made her way up the stairs of her small home, a basket of clean laundry balanced on her hip. She stooped to pick up the Hannah Montana backpack her daughter had left as well as the pair of basketball shorts her son had shucked off and left a few steps further up.

_Slobs. The both of them._

The two slobs in question were currently taking part in their usual after school activities; her daughter at band practice for the flute and her son at Glee practice. She mused on the fact that both her children were so musically inclined while she couldn't sing for her life and the only instruments she had ever touched were the medical kind. The music all came from their father.

Sarah shook her head. She hated to think of that man. It only put her in a foul mood and her day had been going very well; a relief after the hell of the last two months with her son. Although, juvenile detention and the required community service, along with that boy Artie, seemed to have done some good for her wayward son…but he was still permanently grounded.

She made her way to Rebecca's room, hanging the backpack on the hook attached to the back of her door; shifting the basket to both arms, she walked further down the hallway into her son's room for the weekly room check she had instilled in the terms of his grounding contract (he was NOT happy).

_Tough. Don't park my car in a convenience store and try to steal an ATM bucko. My house. My rules._

The fear that had come over his face when she had walked into his room for the first check-up was pretty much worth the screaming match that had occurred when she first told him her new house rules. Apart from finding a few dirty magazines and several empty cans of dip in that first search, she hadn't found anything to be concerned about since. It's been School-Glee or Community Service-Home for the past few weeks and that's how it would remain until she said otherwise. He had been holding up to her new laws surprisingly well and she's been tentatively waiting for the other shoe to drop - for the angry teenager to return in full force…but there's been no sign of him.

_What's this new game of his?_

Sarah hummed to herself as she placed the basket on his bed and moved to do her usual closet, covers/pillow/underneath bed, nightstand, window check before returning to the dresser. The neatly folded t-shirts and basketball shorts went away first, followed by two pairs of jeans and underwear. As she began to shove several pairs of socks into the overstuffed drawer she noticed a crinkling sound. Thinking she had stumbled upon a pack of cigarettes this time around she rolled her eyes and began removing the socks. After taking out the seventh pair (boy seriously went through socks like water), she peeked into the drawer to try and spot the source of the crinkling noise. Seeing nothing, she reached in to feel around the few errant socks leftover. Still nothing.

_Maybe I imagined it. Brain might be just trying to come up with something bad after all this good behavior._

She went to slide the drawer closed when she heard it again: a distinct sound of paper crinkling. She yanked open the drawer and reached in blindly, this time feeling around the back edge/top of the drawer. There! Her fingers slid across what felt like an envelope, stuck in the back crevice of the drawer. She extracted it with a gentle pull and examined her discovery.

It was a letter. Addressed to Noah Puckerman #45597, Allen County Juvenile Probation Center.

_Someone had written Noah when he was in Juvenile Detention?_

Sarah was shocked to say the least. Who had written him? She hadn't give out his ID number to anyone, had tried to keep the whole thing as quiet and private as she could. There was no return address so she examined the clearly feminine loopy scrawl, not recognizing it as Nana Condie's or anyone else she knew.

She bit her lip, internally debating the rights and wrongs of reading her son's personal mail. Examining the envelope, she noticed it appeared quite worn, as if it had been folded, unfolded, and opened several (hundred) times.

_Well I am his mother and his business is my business so…_

Moving to sit on his bed, her decision final, she spread the envelope and removed the worn out letter within. Rationalizing her actions with the argument that it could be someone trying to lead her son back down the path of unrighteousness, a drug dealer or gang member (yes the likelihood of either were zero, especially considering the loopy handwriting, but she needed to feel ok about doing this).

Sarah took a deep breath then dropped her eyes to the letter and began to read:

_Dear Noah,_

_I've thought long and hard about what I wanted to put in this letter and I've decided that it would be a needless effort if I went on about how disappointed I am in you (although it appears I have just capitulated and done so anyway) and I am not going to ask why you committed such an idiotic crime. I will not elaborate on how you are far too intelligent to be making the kinds of decisions that have led you to your current predicament. I refuse to expound upon the way I felt when I heard what you had done and where you had ended up. That is all I will say about that. For now I will focus on providing you with Glee Club updates in the hopes that it will motivate you to rehabilitate yourself and help you choose to make healthier decisions in the future. _

_We have a month and a half to sectionals and it's about time you focused on what's really important. Winning. I have attached a list of songs and their sheet music that I expect you to have memorized and ready to perform upon your return. I've also included a sheet of voice exercises to perform while in lock down or whatever they have you in. Just because you are in a juvenile detention center is no excuse to let your talent go to waste. And you are very talented, Noah._

_Glee Club has been rocked with scandal following our disastrous attempt at performing the cult classic musical rock stageplay The Rocky Horror Show. I will not get into the extraneous details of the failed musical pieces involved; suffice to say the production has been discontinued. Although I must say the costumes were top form. You might be pleased to hear that Finn has been suspended due to strutting down the hallways of McKinley High in his undergarments. He did it to 'get in character,' but Sam told me he suffered from body issues; which I suppose doesn't surprise me considering he was in a locker room with Mike Chang's abs, your arms, and Sam's entire physique next to him. I found it commendable, his dedication to the performance but Principal Figgins would hear none of it. His suspension is up in a week._

_There was a duet competition as well and something happened that has never happened before in my entire singing career. I threw the competition. Rigged it so another could win in my place. Horrifying, I know. I did it to welcome Sam to our group, bring his confidence up if you will. It appears a relationship as sprung from the competition between Sam and Quinn. I don't know how you feel about that but I will say Quinn seems happy._ _Enough about that though. I still get a little disquieted at the fact that I purposely lost a singing competition._

_I saw your sister at band practice after I had stayed after Glee for further vocal exercises. She is very talented Noah, you should be proud. Your mother asked me to give her a ride home these past two weeks, seeing as you are unavailable. I happily obliged of course. This past Tuesday your mother had to work an extra shift so I brought Rebecca over to my house for dinner where we worked together on her solo for the upcoming Valentine's Day concert at Lima Elementary. She's nervous but has been working so hard, and I told her she's going to be brilliant. She asked if you were going to be able to go…Lucky for you, I told her that you wouldn't be able to make it but I would go in your stead and record it on my camera for you when you got back home from your stay at "Nana Condie's." She squealed for about five minutes straight about being recorded, said, "she was famous, like Hannah Montana." It was adorable and believe you me, I will physically sit you down myself and make you watch her performance the second you get out of there._

_Speaking of you getting out, I've found myself quite troubled these past few weeks. I don't know when you're getting out. Your mother is being very tight-lipped about the whole thing and I tried to call in to the Allen County facility and name drop my dads and the firm but they wouldn't release the information to non-family members (I did get your ID number though, so at the very least I'll know you got this letter). I don't know how you will be or act and I despise not knowing. I refuse to believe you're part of the 75% of teenage boys in Lima, Ohio who grow up to be one of three things: a criminal, a deadbeat, or a drug dealer. You're better than them Noah, better than this._

_I look forward to when you return to Glee club so that we can resume rehearsing for the upcoming Sectional competition. Whether you like it or not you are an integral part of this group and we need you here. I hope this letter finds you well. Remain strong and do protect yourself. I researched the conditions of juvenile detention centers and the results were quite unsavory._

…

From here it looked like the rest of the letter had been torn off, leaving the closing remarks as well as the sender a mystery. Sarah was slightly perturbed at being denied the closing remarks but based on the letter's content she had a very good idea who had written her son.

As she sat on the bed, letter in hand, the bang of the front door echoed up the stairwell. She jumped up in alarm, hurriedly folding up the letter and stuffing it back into the sock drawer where she found it. Grabbing the now empty laundry basket, Sarah made her way out of Noah's room to the top of the stairs, hearing the voices of her son and daughter bickering as they banged the kitchen cabinets open and closed in search of food. She rolled her eyes at the routine but began walking down to join them when she stopped in surprise at the third voice that had joined the two siblings.

"Honestly, you two act like you haven't eaten for days."

_Was that Rachel Berry?_

Sarah quickly descended the rest of the staircase and glanced into the kitchen for confirmation that it indeed was the darling girl.

"Hello Mrs. Puckerman," Rachel greeted.

"Rachel, what a pleasant surprise."

"We're working on a song for Glee," Puck mumbled around the pop tart in his mouth

"It's a song by Lady Antebellum-" Rachel began but Puck cut in.

"You wouldn't know it, Ma."

"Well, will you be staying for dinner?"

"Yeah, stay Rachel, it's pasta night!" Rebecca chirped.

"Well, if it's pasta night, how can I refuse?" Rachel laughed as the little girl squealed in delight and threw her arms around Rachel's waist.

Puck rolled his eyes at the scene, "Come on, I wanna get this done, the Cavs are playing the Heat and hopefully someone will punch Lebron in the face," he said before stomping up the stairs to his room, guitar in hand.

Sarah rolled her eyes at her son's affinity for watching violence, whether it be movies, video games, or sports programs.

"We'll keep it down, I promise," Rachel said as she followed him up.

Sarah took a moment to watch the two teenagers tromp up the stairs, a strange sense of contentment overtaking her. She suddenly felt two bony arms wrap around her waist and she looked down at her daughter.

"Noah's being a good boy, isn't he?" Rebecca said.

Sarah smiled down at her daughter; the scene she just witnessed confirming her thoughts on the identity of the sender. "Yes he is sweetie, a very good boy." Ruffling the young girl's hair, who swatted at her mother's hands playfully; Sarah made her way into the kitchen to start on dinner.

"Noah and Rachel, Sittin in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."Rebecca began to sing and dance around the kitchen.

"Becca," Sarah admonished, "Remember what happened last time you sang that song?"

Rebecca immediately stopped, the look on her face assuring her mother that she did indeed recall the way her poor barbie dolls had looked crammed into the toilet.

Yes, her son was oh so mature.

"Come here and help mommy make some pasta," Sarah said to get her daughter's mind off the tragedy that was 'the day of the flushed barbie.' Mother and daughter worked on dinner as the feint sounds of a guitar and singing voices floated down the stairwell.

* * *

><p><em>1 week later<em>

"Chinese is here!" Puck shouted from the couch.

Sarah came out of the kitchen, wallet in hand. "Honey, do you have a few singles on you for tip?"

Puck grumbled something unintelligible then fished around his back pocket and tossed his wallet behind him without looking to see where it flopped on the ground in front of her.

"How gracious of you," Sarah stooped to pick it up and walked to the door where the delivery man was waiting.

She fished out the three singles in his wallet, handed them over, then took the food back inside to the kitchen. Puck's wallet was hanging open, awkwardly gripped between her middle and pointer finger, and as she placed the bags of food on the table, a few bills and pieces of paper slipped out onto the floor.

She bent over to pick up the money and other items, walking towards the garbage can to deposit what she assumed were old receipts but upon closer inspection was a torn bit of folded paper with loopy, feminine writing on it. It was the rest of the letter she had found a week ago! As she scanned the closing of the letter, she found visual confirmation of who sent the letter and was helpless against the smile that overtook her face.

_You're always in my thoughts and my prayers._

_Your friend (whether you admit to it or not),_

_Rachel Berry *_

"I'm starving, Ma!"

Sarah jumped at her son's voice, hastily folding the piece of paper and putting it back in the wallet as she shouted back, "Well then get off your butt and get some food. Do you think I live to serve you?"

"Well, kind of," Puck said as he walked into the kitchen and promptly tore into the bags of hot Chinese food.

"Think again 'eternally-punished-one'." She tossed his wallet back to him, unable to keep the smile from her face.

"What?" Puck said around a mouthful of sweet and sour pork.

Sarah just shook her head, and watched as her son parked himself back in front of the TV screen.

There was hope for this boy after-all, she thought as she called Rebecca down to get some dinner.

Fin.

AN: Hope you enjoyed it!


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